


Consider This Our First

by snailmeamail



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: 50s au, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Noir, Case Fic, Detective Noir, Detectives, F/F, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), More fluff than angst, Pierce is written as bi, lucifer also bi, warning: hand holding ahead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:42:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24034501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snailmeamail/pseuds/snailmeamail
Summary: "No, Lucifer," he struggled to speak over the beginning hum in his ears. "We cannot solve a case together for our first date."--In which Detective Marcus C. Pierce goes on an unconventional date with the Devil.
Relationships: Lucifer Morningstar & Marcus Pierce, Lucifer Morningstar/Marcus Pierce
Comments: 16
Kudos: 87





	1. Speak of the Devil

**Author's Note:**

> this has been sitting in my files for a while so i might as well post it! im feeling this is a three chaptered fic, so ill post the two other chapters in due time :3c  
> disclaimer: i've no idea how the American legal system works so just bear with me!

It was late.

Marcus hadn't realised how late it was until he looked at the clock on his desk.

2:00, it read in large, bold numbers.

He sighed. He carded his hands through his hair. The hours had gone by so fast. He had said goodbye to each of his co-workers until he was the only one left at his desk. The lieutenant was up in his office. The beat cops had taken their shift for the night.

Marcus was okay with late nights. He didn't mind losing sleep if it meant even just a step farther in a case. A case headed by Montgomery had been dropped onto his desk that morning. Something about a B&E or the like. He didn't know; he had barely skimmed it due to how tired he was. He'd been losing sleep ever since the night at the bar.

Every day since then, he'd been waiting anxiously for Lucifer's call. He didn't want to rush him, not anything like that, but two months was a limited timeframe. He didn't want Lucifer to go back to Hell...even that concept alone was enough to snap him out of his thoughts of a golden-eyed bartender with a love for music. He wasn't _just_ a bartender after all.

The actual Devil himself poured him a drink. Samael, Beelzebub, the Lightbringer. Marcus had only heard about him from his mother, Eve. Even then, the stories she told of him were all the dreamy weavings of a romantic. It was weird to think _he_ was that romantic now but he decided not to dwell on it for too long, lest he go mad.

He missed her stories. He missed her _and_ Adam. Ever since Abel, they stopped talking to him. They ascended from Earth to the Silver City and left him behind as a somewhat immortal mortal.

Earth wasn't that bad. There were wars and genocides and lingering wounds but that was man's folly. He'd seen much worse than piles of paperwork, anyway.

Speaking of...

He picked up another form. He signed it. He repeated the process with the next few papers. He barely skimmed what they said. He might as well have given permission to an axe murderer to come and take a swing.

It wouldn't be the first time, come to think of it. Jason had _quite_ the arm.

His neck hurt just remembering it. He wasn't decapitated, thank God (he'd really have to find a better term). He didn't even know how he'd heal from _that._ Did it work like a starfish?

The neck pain wasn't just from old scars. He'd been leaning over his desk for hours now. Even if he was somewhat immortal, he still got tired and worn down. His eyes were heavy.

If the lieutenant didn't have a glass walled office and eyes like a hawk, he would've put his head down and gone to sleep right there. He could imagine Lucifer sitting beside him and doing the same, albeit his head resting on his shoulder. They'd drift off together, chests syncing in breath...

Something entered his peripheral vision. He looked up.

His jaw was no longer connected to his face. He was sure of it. It was there, all the way to the floor.

Marcus never really liked the phrase "Speak of the Devil" until Lucifer showed up.

Literally. Handsomely.

Lucifer Morningstar, with golden eyes and a wicked smile, in a simple dress shirt (without bullet holes) and a deep blue vest, was standing next to the empty lobby desk. He seemed completely unaware Marcus was sitting only a few feet in front of him.

Marcus panicked. It was all on the inside. His face was completely neutral, as he trained it to be. He self-consciously adjusted his tie. He forced his mouth to close. In doing that, he gritted his teeth.

Lucifer was _here_. Speak of the fucking Devil _indeed_.

He got up, almost hitting his desk in the process, and crossed the floor to meet him.

"Lucifer," he croaked. He cringed then cleared his throat. "Lucifer, uh, good evening."

He stopped right in his tracks when Lucifer's eyes met his. When he smiled, the corners of his eyes would turn into crow's feet. It was the same smile that made his heart throb in his ears. It drummed up the buzz in his fingertips.

There goes his jaw again.

"Detective," he purred. Fuck. He was hopeless. He missed hearing Lucifer _talk_. A normal human thing. "It's, um, actually good morning, I believe. Do you usually work at two a.m?"

"No," he said too quickly. "I mean, yes, sometimes, but. No, I guess."

In that moment, he would've loved the ability to die. A knife to the neck would've been ten times better than the one Lucifer was using to carve his heart out.

Lucifer laughed. Soft and small. It wasn't at him, he hoped, but his cheeks burned anyway.

"What are you doing here?" He said. "Not that I mind, really, I don't..."

"Can't the Devil visit his friend in the LAPD?"

"Usually, I'd say no, because you'd need a visitor's ID. But, then again, Doris went home a few ago. And...And it _is_ you. Lucifer. So. Um."

"I'll take that as a 'yes', I think," he laughed again. "But, as for why I'm here, I did want to visit you. I forgot to call, I know. For that, I'm very sorry."

He sounded genuinely upset that he forgot to do something as trivial as a phone call. It was so endearing Marcus felt cotton-brained again. He had spent sleepless nights waiting for it but he was sure Lucifer had his reasons. King of Hell, and all that. Souls needed to be damned. Demons to be kept in check. The King couldn't drop it all for what he thought was a mortal.

The notion hurt just a little bit but he knew he had no right to demand something of Lucifer like that.

"It's just a phone call, Lu. It's not a big deal." A blatant lie, even to himself. He was worried. He had never been this worried over screwing up like this before.

"I'm sorry. Truly. I am a Devil of my word, detective. I am not lying when I say I missed you very much. Every day since the night at the bar, I kept putting it off. I was nervous. I thought that, somehow, I was going to mess up. And, trust me, when you're someone like me, you don't usually mess up or become nervous _about_ messing up. Bottom line is: I shouldn't have made you worry."

"...Lucifer, really. I'm fine. You're right, I did worry, but...but that's because we're both new to this. I know I'm not used to dating an im..."

_Immortal._

Lucifer raised his eyebrows as he struggled to find a mortal appropriate word.

"...impressive man such as yourself," he said flatly. Lucifer smiled wider anyway. "M-My point is: it's only a call. I'm glad you're here."

Lucifer didn't answer and kept smiling. His smile was wide, even a little bit cheeky. It felt like Marcus was the only one who wasn't in on the joke.

"What?" He said, an eyebrow raised.

"You said _dating_ , Marc. We're dating now, hm?" Lucifer grinned.

If his cheeks, and by extension the tips of his ears, could get any hotter they would have rivaled the fires of Hell.

He exhaled sharply, coughing to hide his embarrassment. He rubbed the back of his neck.

Lucifer saved him from having to respond.

"Speaking of, darling," he said. "That's actually why I'm here. I thought, since I failed to make a simple phone call, I'd make it up to you in person."

Marcus nodded silently, though he wasn't sure why he did. Truthfully, he didn't understand what Lucifer was talking about. It wasn't like he was carrying a gift for him or anything. His hands were empty. Besides, he wouldn't have accepted it in the first place. Appreciate it, yes, but not take it. He swore off physical gifts since the last millennia (don't ask; it's a sore spot.).

"I think," Lucifer continued. "We should go on a date."

Oh. _Oh_.

"A date," he repeated dumbly. His tongue felt numb all of a sudden. His limbs refused to move. His arms, which were now crossed, tensed.

A date. With Lucifer fucking Morningstar.

This was exactly what he wanted. What he _needed_. He only had two months of Lucifer left, give or take a few days, before the Devil would return to Hell. He had to take the opportunity, even if the idea of dating made his stomach churn. The gesture sweetened his heart, though. Lucifer made the effort to ask him. To take the first step.

"Sure," he hastily followed up. "God, yeah, I'd love to. What did you have in mind?"

"Dinner might be good, no? It's a primary first date sort of thing."

Marcus glanced at the clock on his desk. It was already way past a normal hour. Most restaurants would, obviously, be closed by now. Of course, Lucifer would know that.

"Tomorrow, then?" He proposed.

Lucifer tilted his head in that soft, curious way. Then, he smiled.

"Okay," he said. "Tomorrow it is."

Marcus nodded, smiling himself. He turned to his desk. Something among the bustling piles of paperwork caught his eye. A yellow manila folder was open on his desk. He suddenly remembered what it was.

It was the case about the burglary Montgomery had dropped off that morning. He had practically handed it off to Marcus, saying something about how he couldn't make heads or tails of it. He thought Marcus would be able to solve it.

His entire _job_ was riding on that case. Montgomery was a bigshot; if he solved a case he couldn't he'd be known as one of the top detectives. Sure, jobs didn't matter that much when you were immortal, but Marcus didn't like to remember the times when he was out of a job and short on money. He didn't want to go back to that.

Lucifer had to believe he was a normal human being. Mortals did their jobs, made money, spent money, and put food on the table. He had to be Marcus, not Cain. Still, he could not curb his anger. He didn't have all day; if he wanted Lucifer, and he did, he had to do something now.

Something was holding him back, though. Something deep seated and humming with a powerful electric energy. He recognized it as fear.

He definitely wasn't afraid of messing everything up and never speaking to Lucifer, the only other immortal he had ever met, ever again. He wasn't afraid of keeping the lie going for a few more, just until Lucifer left.

He wasn't positively terrified of the realization that he was lying to the King of Hell himself, one of the biggest deities out there.

No, of course not. What a silly notion.

"I have a case to work on," he apologized, trying best to hide his frustration. "Important. So, can we hold off on that date first? I'm sorry, Lu, really. I want to go on this date with you but...my job is really important and..."

Lucifer didn't seem the least bit disheartened. In fact, he walked towards Marcus's desk. The detective stared after him in confusion and then, looking up at the lieutenant's office to make sure he wasn't watching, went quickly to his side.

Lucifer was peering over the case file, eyes flitting this way and that as he read the grainy typewriter letters. His hand, whilst he was reading, carded through the black and white crime scene photos. A picture of a lamp knocked over. An open window. Dirt tracks on a carpet. Blood on the dry plaster wall.

Marcus put a hand on the taller man's shoulder.

"Lu," he murmured, eyes darting to the lieutenant's office. "You're not supposed to look at these things. It's LAPD business _only_."

"Was the late Miss Hargrove's case file LAPD business only, too?" He shot back smoothly. "I recall having a grand old time reading that one."

"This case hasn't even been solved yet; it's fresh off the streets. We can't have you looking at this sort of-"

"Oh, lucky us, then!" Lucifer looked at him with bright eyes. "Detective, I don't think we're going to have to hold off on that date after all."

Marcus couldn't deny his interest was piqued. Hope flickered inside of him. "Why's that?"

Lucifer closed the file and picked it up. He held it out to Marcus. He was smiling widely, so wide his canines pricked at the edge of his lips.

"Consider _this_ our first date!"

Whatever eagerness and fear he was containing earlier evaporated. Marcus swallowed whatever curse he was about to say.

"No," he said instead. "No. Absolutely not."

"Detective..." An endearing pout with puppy dog eyes. Lucifer was really pushing for this. Marcus's throat felt sandpaper coarse.

_Fuck_ , he thought, only mildly panicking. On the outside, his face remained neutral, if not a little anxious. _Holy. Fuck._

"No, Lucifer," he struggled to speak over the beginning hum in his ears. "We cannot solve a case together for our first date."


	2. Cut Both Ways

He couldn't believe he let Lucifer talk him into this.

No, not even that. That he can believe. Lucifer was charismatic.

He couldn't believe the lieutenant said _yes_. Lieutenant Paul Hawkins, a man with a stick so far up his ass he stood ramrod straight at all times, said yes.

When Marcus had managed to speak again, he told Lucifer he'd ask what the lieutenant thought of having a civilian consultant with him on job (of course, Lucifer _wasn't_ a consultant, but the lieutenant didn't need to know that).

The talk was shorter than he had expected it to be. He had started telling the lieutenant about Lucifer, though it was a version of Lucifer that was a reporter for a small time newspaper business just downtown. "Lu" wanted to write a piece on the experience of a detective in the LAPD. In that case, Marcus.

The lieutenant hadn't even looked up from his crossword before interrupting him with a "Sure."

It didn't take long for them to pile into Marcus's car. Lucifer at the passenger, seat belt off, Marcus noticed. The Devil liked to live dangerously. He did, too, but it was bad rep for a cop to forgo a seatbelt.

They were driving towards the scene of the crime, a 341 12 Acre Drive. It was a posh neighborhood, as he had heard from forensics. Easy to steal from. Multiple cases had passed through the station from the neighborhood.

As they drove, rain pattered against the window and drummed across the head of the car. Something soft and slow played on the radio, the haunting notes of the singer becoming even more ethereal with the cold weather seeping in. Marcus sighed to himself; it was perfect weather to sleep. Curled up in bed, covers up to his chin... preferably with Lucifer, of course, though he feared the man was too lanky for his bed. Right now, said lanky man was reading the case file. The streetlights passed by the window, illuminating the man for a brief moment.

"Reading in the car will give you a headache, Lu," Marcus chastised. "It can wait until we get to the crime scene."

"Detective, you've forgotten," Lucifer glanced at him with a small smile. "I'm the Devil. Yes, I do get headaches, but not by reading in a car. Drinking and snorting the wrong sort of substance, maybe."

Marcus opened his mouth to ask but let it go. Everyone had their vices. Even he did. Opium was one hell of a drug.

The car slowed as they pulled up to the driveway of 34112 Acre Drive, the resident home of a one Ms. Creek. The driveway was lined with small spotlights, illuminating the dirt gravel road that crunched under their tires. A lavish oak door stood in the middle of the archway.

Marcus took off his seatbelt. He opened the door and stepped out. Lucifer did the same. They walked to the door. Marcus knocked three times.

A few moments later, a disgruntled young woman with auburn hair and crow's feet in the corners of her eyes opened the door. She had a bandage on her temple. She smiled at them, though Marcus could tell it was forced.

"Good evening, detectives," Elena Creek said through her grimace. "Come in, come in."

She opened the door wider and stepped aside. Marcus gestured for Lucifer to enter first before following.

"Good evening, Ms. Creek," Marcus replied politely once they were in the foyer. "Lu isn't my partner, actually. He's a, uh, reporter for an independent paper. I apologize for the late hour."

"Oh, it's fine, dear. I haven't been sleeping well since the break in, anyway. I'm just glad you called first before coming."

Marcus looked up the long, grandiose staircase. "May we?"

"Of course." She went up the stairs and led them to one of the many rooms on the second floor. The door was ajar, being propped open by a bright yellow tag with the number six on it. An evidence tag.

A few other objects had similar evidence tags. A lamp, cracked down the middle, lay on the rug with a number one. A spot of dried blood on the wall had a number two. Dirt tracks and smudges on the wall under the window was the number three. The open window itself, the wind blowing the curtains gently was number four. Finally, the cabinet in the corner of the room with a few open drawers had number five.

Lucifer stepped around him, glancing at the evidence. In his hands he held the case file.

The only thing that remained untouched was the queen sized bed in the middle of the chaos. The covers were thrown around but other than that it seemed like it hadn't been witness to a crime at all.

Marcus looked back at Elena, who was standing in the door nervously.

"Is this your bedroom, Ms. Creek?" He asked.

"Yes. It is," she nodded frantically. "Was, I mean."

"Care to elaborate?" He followed Lucifer's careful path through the crime scene.

"Well, you see, my, um, 'roommate' Jacquelyn Klein used to sleep here," her cheeks tinged red as she added softly, "With me."

"Oh," Marcus said, eyebrows raising in surprise. She seemed surprised herself; it seemed like she expected a more negative reaction. "You two were...?"

"You two aren't _vice squad_ , are you?" When Marcus firmly said no, she nodded hastily. "I am a, uh, Gillette Blade, if you will," she explained. "She was a Kiki."

Marcus had been around long enough to understand the codewords. She was saying she was bisexual, much like himself, and Jacquelyn was a lesbian. She must have been ashamed if she was using such derogatory slang. He felt sympathetic.

"It's okay," he said, feeling a strange sort of solidarity. "I cut both ways, too."

Her cheeks turned even redder but her smile started to become a little more real.

"Lu must be more than your partner then," she said, loud enough for only him to hear, with a twinkle in her eye. "Is he also...?"

"I think so," he whispered back. His neck heated in embarrassment. "Let's get back to the case, ma'am."

"Of course."

He cleared his throat. He caught Lucifer's eye for a moment. He was smiling at him,, amused, from across the room. Marcus hoped he hadn't heard any of that. Did the Devil have super-hearing, among other things?

"You said this was your room before Ms. Klein departed. Do you know where she went? Were there any signs that she was going to leave at all?"

"I don't know where she went. She's been gone for a month now. She left all of her stuff. We...We had a heated argument the night before she disappeared."

"What was the argument about?"

"Jackie said that we were lying to ourselves. We weren't being who we really are. We weren't being _us_. She wanted to be more, I guess you can say, _out_. I was afraid. My emotions got the better of me and I got upset. We kept going back and forth. I knew in myself that she was right, though. Jackie was always right. She's an activist, you see. She knows all about politics, capitalism, what not. She knew that times had to change and she was going to make them change. She's so, so smart. And...and I miss her. She didn't come to bed. The morning after she was gone. We've had those arguments before but I didn't think she'd leave."

She looked sad, eyes rimmed red. Marcus felt a twinge of sympathy. She had it so hard. She couldn't even be with the woman she loved. The world was just that cruel.

"Okay," he said, writing her piece down on a yellow paper notepad. "I need you to tell me what happened on the night of the break in. For example, how you hit your head."

"It was an ordinary night as usual. Organising missing posters for Jackie while sitting at the dining table, sipping chamomile from my Aunt Lucy. As I'm looking through these posters, I hear a terrible noise upstairs. I grab a rolling pin from my kitchen and head up the stairs. I'm quaking all the way. I nearly dropped the pin several times. The entire second floor was dark but I could see a light from my room through a crack in the door. I went to the doorstep, pin in hand, and saw the culprit."

"You saw what they looked like?" He perked up.

"No. Their back was turned to me, but they looked to be of slim stature. A woman, I suppose. They _did_ turn to face me when they heard the door creak, but then I heard a _crack_ and the room went dark before I could see their face."

"Right." He took that down. That must have been when the lamp was knocked over.

"We grappled for a bit in the dark, once I saw them, and they pulled the rolling pin from my hand. I suppose that's what hit me in the head. Everything was a blur after that. I fell against the wall, and onto the floor. I stayed there for a few moments trying to gather myself. When I gained the strength to stand, the robber was gone. The window was open. I looked out into the driveway but no one was there."

"Did they take anything of value? Jewelry, maybe?"

"No. Nothing but the lamp was out of place. They were sorting through the drawers of the cabinet before I came in but they didn't seem to take anything. As for the jewelry, I always keep them hidden safely."

Marcus stared at his notes for a moment, nodding to himself. It was all starting to come together. He just needed to take it from the top. He caught Lucifer in the corner of his eye. The man was flipping through the case file.

Marcus sighed quietly before looking up at her. "Okay. My partner and I will take a look around the crime scene and draw a conclusion from there. Rest assured, ma'am, we'll find the culprit. If we have any further questions, we'll be sure to ask you."

"I have no doubt of that, detective. I'll be in the living room if you need me, then." With that, she left. The door stayed propped open.

"A robbery on this side of town," Lu hummed once she was gone. "It's not that much of a surprise, really. The people here are _loaded_. It's no wonder they live with people of the same fortune. I mean, I'd live here too, but I'm afraid having a permanent residence isn't in my interest."

Marcus swallowed thickly, opting to ignore the last comment. He nodded in place of a reply.

"Anyway," Lucifer continued. "Work your stuff, detective. Don't mind me."

He nodded again. What Lucifer had said earlier about not needing permanent residence was still haunting him. It was true, of course. He didn't want it to be. He wanted Lucifer to stay.

Sternly, he reminded himself of his "mortal" duty. He shook his head, as though the action would rattle the thoughts from his mind. What remained was a reminder; Lucifer was still here. There was still a chance. There was also still work to be done.

For now, there was a crime scene and a case. There was a culprit and a victim. There was evidence. Solid, material things. Things he could work with. Lucifer, though material, was more than he could handle right now. His work was a much needed distraction. It was something mortal in the face of the supernatural.

"Okay," he cleared his throat. "Let's see."

He took a walk through the scene. He made note of each evidence tag. The door, the wall, the lamp, the cabinet, and the open window. Six pieces of evidence, not counting the ones already in custody of the LAPD.

Everything started from the door. Elena had explained it clearly enough. The room had had the lights on when she came up the stairs. She then entered the room without the culprit noticing. At the moment, Marcus didn't know how much time had passed before the culprit had noticed her. He noticed the clothes in the cabinet were only slightly ruffled. The perpetrator hadn't been searching long.

Another odd thing to note was that the bottom drawers were open instead of the top ones, the ones a criminal would search first. The latter had remained untouched. Upon further inspection, they were locked. The bottom drawers had a lock but it didn't appear to be busted open as the window was.

When the perpetrator had seen her, they knocked over the lamp in an attempt to hide their identity. They then fought, grappling in the dark blindly, before the culprit tore the rolling pin from her hand and delivered a deft blow to her temple. Elena then fell against the wall, which would explain the blood, and onto the floor. She stayed there for a few moments, giving the culprit a literal window of opportunity to escape.

The window itself had a lock but it was busted open with a blunt object. It could have been a rock from the garden or the blunt end of a tool. After knocking Elena out, they took their leave. They ran out of the driveway. Which way they went from there, Marcus didn't know. They could've gone anywhere.

He scratched his chin in frustration. He was stuck. Marcus Pierce didn't _get_ stuck. So, he took a step back to take in the big picture. Literally and figuratively as he went back to standing in the doorway.

All he had to do was look at it from a new angle. Propose a different solution. Ask new questions. Get someone else's perspective.

"Lucifer," he said. "What do you make of this?"

Lucifer looked up at him. "Hm?"

"I've hit a snag. I need your help. I have the chain of events sorted out but I haven't found a single thing that could help us pinpoint our culprit. Have you got any ideas?"

"Well, yes." Lucifer went to the cabinet, leaning down to examine the bottom drawers. "Isn't it a little strange that these drawers were opened first instead of the top ones?"

"They were locked, weren't they?"

"Precisely. Wouldn't a burglar bust the locks of the ones on top open first instead of going for the bottom ones? They already did the window. It wouldn't be hard to smash both of these locks to bits. They went for the bottom one specifically."

"The 'terrible' noise Ms. Creek heard could've been the window or an attempt on the locks."

"That would be a bit loud. I mean, you've already busted open the window, which could and _did_ attract the house owner, so would you really want to add to the noise?"

"Hm. I think I see your point here, Lu..."

"Isn't that what I'm here for?" Lucifer smirked, teeth showing lightly. Marcus rolled his eyes, fighting off his own smile.

"I believe what you're saying is this: The culprit knew exactly what drawers to open. They were looking for something _specific_. So, they were either a friend, family, or a stalker neighbor. I don't think anyone in this neighborhood would steal. They're loaded. Why would they?"

Marcus sighed, scratching his chin again.

"Okay," he continued. "We need Miss Creek's piece of the puzzle. Let's go, Lu."

"Delightful! I love a good mystery."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :3c i have a lot of fun with background characters as you can see  
> final chapter should come around tomorrow morning!


	3. Now or Never

They found Elena exactly where she said she'd be: the living room. It was posh and, compared to the rest of the house, modestly decorated. An empty fireplace stood at one side with pictures on its shelf. A cabinet full of glassware opposite that.

Elena offered them tea, to which Marcus politely declined. In all his immortal years, he never liked tea. Lucifer, on the other hand, accepted a cup. His cup was sitting on the coffee table in between them, steam rising through the air. It was the only warmth in the room as the rain drummed across the roof. The shivering cold came in through the windows.

Marcus adjusted his coat and leaned forward, notepad in hand.

"My partner and I have examined the scene," he started. "We've put the pieces together but we're missing one very important piece. Yours."

"And that piece would be?" She murmured, tracing the rim of her cup.

"The burglar searched the cabinet drawers. There was something off about the way they did it, though. Only the bottom drawers were open."

"I know but it doesn't make _sense_. Both drawers have locks and they were locked that night. How could the criminal open them?"

"We asked that, too. At first, we thought they had used the blunt object used to force open the window. Upon further inspection, though, neither locks had any signs of damage. When we came to that conclusion, we thought they had lockpicked it. That didn't make sense either. It would take much longer than the, let's say, thirty-second window between you coming into the room and them noticing you. So, we abandoned the thought. That left one last option."

Elena clutched her cup nervously, her long painted fingernails clacking against the ceramic.

"You said Jacquelyn was your roommate. There was no other cabinet or dresser in that room. You shared storage. So, my question is, miss Creek... Who owns the clothes in the bottom half of the cabinet?"

She was silent for a moment. Something glinted on her cheek. Her eyes were shiny.

"Jacquelyn," she sniffled. "Jackie's. They were Jackie's."

Lucifer plucked a tissue from the box and handed it to her. She murmured thanks as she wiped her eyes.

"It's safe to assume she has a copy of the key to that drawer," Marcus said gently. "She might have taken it the night she left."

Elena looked up, past their heads. Marcus followed her gaze. She was staring at a key holder by the doorway. There were keys on the first two hooks but none on the third.

"Yes," Elena said. "It seems she did. You don't think she...?"

"Jacquelyn Klein was involved in this breaking and entering."

"God." Elena carded a hand through her auburn hair. It seemed dim now, like the flame in her was dying. Marcus sighed.

"Is there anywhere in the vicinity she could've gone to? Family, maybe? Friends?"

"Her family hasn't contacted her in months. They live in Chicago. I can't think of any friends she might've gone to. But I'm sure you can find them out easily; Jackie always joined those activist groups." Marcus and Lucifer shared a look of exasperation. There were about a hundred activist groups in the state. Jacquelyn could've been anywhere.

The detective took a look at the clock. It was well past three. Besides the cold, exhaustion was settling into his bones. No doubt Elena was tired, too.

Marcus stood. "I think we've taken up enough of your time, ma'am. You should try to rest."

Lucifer finished his cup and stood, as did Elena. Her eyes were still shiny.

"Okay," she said. "Good night, detectives."

"Good night."

"Good night. Wonderful tea, by the way."

\--

The rain slowed to a sleepy drizzle. Marcus sat back, hands on the wheel, though he did not turn on the engine. Not yet.

Lucifer was sitting beside him, leaning back comfortably. The case file was on the dashboard. He looked wide awake, unlike Marcus, who felt like an elephant was pressing down on his head. It wasn't the first time, actually.

His eyes flitted to Lucifer's hand. He was still wearing the black onyx ring. Marcus could barely stop himself from putting his hand on top of his. He looked back up at Lucifer. The man was staring at the road through half-lidded eyes, eyes that were not quite gold, brown, or red, but a black.

"Lu," he murmured. "You okay?"

"Hm?" Lucifer looked at him, eyes still half-closed. He chuckled, a sound as soft as the rain on the roof. "Detective, I think I should be asking you that question. You don't look like you can drive."

"'m fine..." Marcus yawned. "Late nights are nothing to the LAPD."

"Mhmm. You're cute when you're sleepy, detective." Lucifer put a hand on his.

The contact started up the hum in Marcus' fingertips. There was no lightning outside because it was crackling under his skin, snapping a frenzy. Marcus was glad it was so dark. He didn't want Lucifer to see him losing it.

"Detective," Lucifer whispered. "You okay?"

Marcus turned his hand and gripped Lucifer's, sliding them down to rest in-between them. Lucifer looked down at their hands then back up at him, smiling that canine smile. There had never been anyone who smiled at him like that.

"Lucifer," Marcus said before Lucifer could say anything. "I-"

****

**_THUMP!_** A figure, too dark to see, slid across the hood before running up to the dim house. Marcus pulled a gun from the holster in his coat, swinging the car door open. He barely registered closing it before giving chase. He assumed Lucifer was following him as he dashed through the open door and ascended the stairs, taking them two at a time.

He heard Elena scream. A light flicked on down the hall. He burst into the room.

Elena was in her bed, clutching the covers to her chest. The figure stood, now illuminated by the temporary lamp in the room.

A woman of fair complexion and short, ruffled hair stood with her hands up placatingly. She was wrapped in a thick, black coat. She was shivering minutely.

"Jacquelyn Klein," Marcus breathed, holding his gun up. "LAPD. You are under arrest for breaking and entering."

"Wait," Jacquelyn gulped. "Wait, detective, please. _Please_."

Lucifer put a steady hand on his shoulder. Marcus kept his gun up.

"Elena," She pleaded, turning to her. "I'm sorry, God, I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you like this. I can explain all of this-"

"You _left me_!" Elena screeched. "Then, you come barging in her and stealing from me! How dare you come back?"

"I know, I know! I-I know I fucked up. But let me explain, please. After I left with my key, I stayed at that motel down the road. I stayed there for weeks, living off of the money from my pockets. I had no clothes so I came back here. I couldn't face you after being gone so long. I broke the window open and went to the cabinet but all I was going to get was my clothes, I promise. I would never steal anything from you. I failed that and...and hurt you. I'm sorry. My plan was to leave permanently, go back to Chicago, but I couldn't. I couldn't leave you or us.

We weren't lying to ourselves," she explained. "I was lying to myself. I was being someone I wasn't; someone who would leave you behind, knowing that you couldn’t follow. I'm sorry, Elena. I love you and I will still love you even if you don't want to be seen in public together. I will love you even if you're not ready to take that next step."

Elena stood up slowly, eyes shiny. Marcus kept his eyes on her and the gun on Jacquelyn.

"Jackie," she whispered. "I do want to be with you. Always. That night, I was afraid, but now I don't care. Whatever anyone says won't matter because I'm with you. You have always been strong and powerful and smart. You've always been my Jackie."

Jacquelyn leaned and embraced the smaller woman tightly, face in the nook of her neck. Elena wrapped her arms around the other's neck.

"Aw," Lucifer whispered.

"Lu," he scolded just as quietly, though there was no fire. Instead, he was stunned cold.

_Lying to myself. Someone who I wasn't._

_Lying._

_You are lying to him._

_Tell him._

Marcus had been so ready to spend a millennia with Lucifer and only after a millennia telling him who he really was, if Lucifer hadn't gotten an inkling of it already. The realization that he was really going to stretch the lie that he was human that far hit him full force. He had to confess. He couldn't have Lucifer remembering him as a lie. As Marcus Pierce.

He needed to know Cain.

Elena leaned away, holding her lover's face in her hands. She smiled sadly at Marcus.

"This won't change anything, will it?"

The sight of them together was colder than any storm, crackled harder than any flashes of lightning. The hum in his fingertips thrummed painfully in his heart and stomach, writhing like a snake. Marcus almost felt sick. What the hell was he doing?

"No," Marcus said through the burning feeling. "I'm sorry. Jacquelyn Klein, you are under arrest for assault and breaking and entering. You have the right to remain silent..."

As he tripped over the basic mantra, Jacquelyn was holding Elena close. She was tearfully smiling.

Marcus didn't understand it.

\--

It didn't take long for the LAPD to send backup. Jacquelyn Klein was arrested on charges of breaking and entering and assault. Elena promised to talk to her lawyer and drop the charges. After that, they'd run away to Chicago and be together, as they told the detectives.

Marcus envied them.

It was nearly six in the morning. The sun was rising, casting the neighborhood in a gentle golden glow. Dew on all the front lawns glistened.

Despite the peaceful morning, Marcus couldn't get rid of the grimy feeling gathering under his skin.

He was lying to Lucifer and for _what?_ What was he going to gain? He had to tell him. Now or never, lest it all end up like the case had.

Said man was leaning against the car with him, their hands tangled together. He was smiling, though not a canine smile. It was genuine. His eyes mimicked the golden sunrise.

"It's too bad what's happened to them," said man murmured. "It's awful."

Marcus grunted. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I mean, really. Love is a strange, strange thing. I don't quite understand it."

Marcus nodded, silent.

"Detective?"

Lucifer looked at him, an eyebrow arched. Then, he smiled. He put his hand on the detective's shoulder.

"Detective," he said. "Good morning."

Despite himself, he laughed, a scoff at best. Marcus looked up at him. Lucifer met his gaze.

As soon as Lucifer looked at him, the feeling writhing in his stomach burned up into ashes. What was left was the warmth on his face and in his hands. The adoration.

"Good morning, Lucifer," he murmured wholeheartedly.

"Quite the case, no? I told you I'd make a good detective."

"...I think dinner would've been a better date."

"Are you proposing a do-over?" Lucifer looked at him incredulously, though it was full of humour.

"Why not?" Marcus challenged, smiling himself.

"Detective, I like this go-getter side of you." He laughed, a gentle sound. "I hate to remind you I don't have long here, though."

The writhing feeling came back, though it was worse. It crawled under his fingernails and wrapped around his throat, tightening and tightening until he couldn't breathe.

"I know," he managed. "I know."

The conversation lulled into silence. It was not an uncomfortable stretch of silence, no, but a tense one. It felt like there was still rapid energy bouncing around.

Marcus found himself staring at Lucifer. The way he had an easy smile had him reeling. His shoulders were relaxed, rolled back. Lucifer was almost feline in nature by the way he was so... _loose._

Then, Marcus' eyes flitted to his lips.

_Now or never._

Now.

At the time, he didn't know what possessed him to do what he did. What urged him to grip at Lucifer's vest and pull the taller man down. He didn't understand the external force that pushed him into kissing Lucifer, grasping at the others lips, not daring to breathe because he _couldn't._

The hum erupted into an electrical charge between them, frying every one of Marcus' nerves as Lucifer pressed back and carded his hands through Marcus' hair. They descended to Marcus' waist, pulling him closer. The detective wasn't proud of the noise he made.

He realized he couldn't actually breathe. He cursed mortality. If he was truly immortal, he could've gone on kissing Lucifer forever. Anything to make him stay.

Reluctantly, he pulled away, breathing ragged. Lucifer was the same. His breath came in short, harsh movements. Marcus pressed his forehead to the other's. Lucifer grinned a wicked grin.

"Consider this our first," Marcus whispered, grinning just as widely.

" _Marcus_ ," he laughed, delightfully hoarse. Marcus couldn't help but kiss him again.

He would do anything to hear him say his name like that again.

"Marcus," Lucifer murmured against his lips. "Down, boy. I'm not going anywhere."

"Yes, you are," Marcus growled. "Now shut up and let me kiss you."

"Mm," he hummed. "I _do_ like this side of you. Keep it up, detective."

It took a few more minutes (and a few more kisses) before Lucifer forced him into the car and planted himself in the driver's seat. He wasn't having a tired Marcus drive. As they drove back to the station, Lucifer snuck a glance at the sleeping detective beside him. Marcus' head was leaning against the window. He looked peaceful. His eyebrows that were usually knit so tightly were relaxed.

Lucifer grimaced. There was so little time left.

He planned to enjoy Marcus as much as he could, mortality and dear old Dad be damned. He had time. He did. Looking at the man who kissed him so fervently, a man with a dry laugh and sad eyes, he felt he had all the time in the world to love him.

Hell be damned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and here we are, at the end, bringing this fic around to a whopping 7k words! thank you for reading so far and hey tell me what you think in the comments. im brainstorming some ideas for the next part in this universe, so please let me know if you'd read that! 
> 
> snail OUT


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